Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1887-01-05
Saturday Night.
For the Spectator


There are few words in our language
that convey to the mind more meaning
than the two which form the title of this
article. Surely there are few that are
capable of arousing such different feelings
or emotions. To one man the approach of
Saturday night is looked forward to with
great deal of pleasure, because it is the
harbinger of the blessed Sabbath-that day
upon which the Omnipotent God, who
created this werld of ours and all that it
contains, rested from His labors and blessed
and sanctified this holy day. And the way
faring man who does not look upon this as
his home, but who has his eye firmly fixed
upon that 'House not made with hands
eternal in the heavens, ''cannot help looking
forward to this day with feelings of
pleasure, because he will meet his fellow
christians in his Fathers own house and
hold sweet communion with that elder
brother who has gone to prepare place
for him.
To another it matters little whether
Saturday night comes at all or not. He
seems to take everything as matter of
course he lives in state of apparent in
difference as to his present or future being.
To such an one these words, Saturday
night" do not awaken any emotions either
pleasant or painful.
But there is still another, and he instead
of looking forward to the close of the week
with pleasure, hears the words, Saturday
night with mingled feelings Of pain. dis
appointment, and sorrow. His serdid mind
is SO set on the accumulation of gold that
he does not want to stop his business or
give.his clerks and employees day of
rest. Or, perchance, he is worshper of
IF p1o A.
laws that do not allow of Sunday plays at
the theater, or the bars to dispense their
liquid poison ON that day nuisance. Be
this as it may, the feelings that he expert
ances in view of Saturday night are feelings
of pain rather than pleasure. But we wish
to look at this subject in another light-a
light in which it may also interest others
as it has often interested US.
There is in our country, and, in fact, in
every civilized land, class of men who
surely ought to be thankful that Saturday
night comes every week, and look forward
to it with the greatest pleasure. Men who
have to labor for their daily support, and
the support of their families and those de-
pendent on them men whose business
compels them to be absent all the week
from their loved ones at home. And how
it must tighten the labor of man as he
tolls day after day iN the burning sun of
summer or the chilling winds of winter to
know that his weeks work will soon be
done, and that there is awaiting him at
home hearty and loving welcome. How
the cheerful fire on his own hearth-stone
and the soft musical voice of his wife as
she greets him with a loving kiss of well
come will make him forget his tolls and
hardships, and how the sight of those dear
little faces at the window and the lisped
sentence, Papa has come" will renew his
strength, zeal, and perseverance for another
week Of work.
But, alas, there is to this, as to so many
other pleasant pictures, another although
not brighter side We see another man.
and he is but representative of q large
class, who too is laboring hard, but what
are his prospects? His fond father and
loving mother sleep side by side in the old
church-yard beneath the weeping willow
the peaceful sleep of death.
He has no home, for the old homestead
with all its pleasant surroundings and hal
lowed associat ioDs, has passed into other
hands.
A stranger, maybe, occupies the room
where he first saw the light, and where
his angel mother taught his infant tongue
to lisp, "Now / lay me down to Sleep
That mothers name is not known. There
are no kind and loving ones to await his
return. To him how different must be the
emotions awakened by the words, "Satur-
day night"
If he is kept busy and cares for his bust.
ness or his contracts, he may spend the
week in what might DO called a state OF
negative happiness; but with it's close comes
sense of utter loneliness and desolation
that cannot be described.
Created with heart OVERLOOKING with
love and no object upon which to center
his affections, how can he be anything but
miserable?
While he is kept busy, his mind has nc
time to turn in upon itself, as it were, and
he does not realize his true position. But
when Saturday night comes and his week.
work is over, there it is that he realizes
how lonely and desolate he is. No deal
ones are awaiting him at home, for he has
no home. He may have place to stop al
that be calls home, perhaps the home of 9
brother, sister, or some valued friend,
but still it is not home in the true sense Of
the word.